Baby in Red
by Chloe Winchester
Summary: Someone actually understands Patrick. She finds him funny and interesting and they get along so well it's like they're the same person. And She's a fifteen year old girl. Please R&R My first shot at this so be nice!
1. redruM

**--OK, this is my first shot at a Mentalist fic so go easy on me!--**

**Baby in Red**

1

**redruM**

_CBI Headquarters, Sacramento, CA_

"Good morning everyone." Patrick said, walking brusquely into the quiet office and heading directly for his couch.

"There is no such thing as a good Monday morning." Rigsby said. Patrick chuckled.

"Don't get comfortable," Lisbon said, entering the room. "Just got the call, a man and a woman were killed last night in Fairfield."

"Isn't it a little early?" Rigsby whined.

"Oh, don't be such a baby." Patrick said, standing.

"I told Social Services what's going on," Van Pelt said, hanging up the phone. "They said they'd be at the crime scene in a few hours."

"Social services?" Cho inquired. Lisbon frowned and sighed.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wesson were foster parents."

_Wesson residence, Fairfield, CA_

Patrick gazed around the crime scene, not looking particularly interested in anything. He was trying to find out anything he could about the people that lived here, the people that were killed, and the killer himself. He walked around the perimeter of the house while Lisbon spoke to the officer that had first arrived at the scene. He looked to see where the killer got in, how they got in. How they killed Mr. and Mrs. Wesson; that was highly important. What he needed right now, though, was a suspect.

"I told you and everybody else that has asked me today, I…didn't…see…anything." Patrick turned and saw a young girl talking to a police officer.

"Miss Wesson-"

"My last name is Joyce, thank you." She said shortly.

"Miss Joyce," The officer corrected. "Your foster parents were murdered in your house last night and you're telling me you didn't see or hear anything?" The girl sighed.

"Considering I've said that ten times now, yes. I heard nothing and I saw nothing.

"And how is that possible?" The officer asked. The girl folded her arms and glared at him.

"I don't think you have the right to interrogate a minor without a legal guardian present, correct?" She said. Patrick stifled a laugh.

"Miss, you're guardians are deceased." The officer said pointedly. The girl grinned mischievously.

"Exactly. So, I think we're done here." She said, turning and almost hitting Lisbon, who smiled.

"You must be Caroline." She said, her voice border-line baby talk. Caroline raised her brows in an as if expression.

"Yes, I am. And I'm also fifteen, not seven." She said. Lisbon frowned. Patrick grinned.

"Well, Caroline," Lisbon said, changing her tone. "Social services will be here in an hour to relocate you somewhere." Caroline swallowed and looked at the ground, almost looking fearful.

"Uh, Lisbon," Patrick said, stepping forward. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" She asked, confused.

"She was the only one in the house last night that lived. Don't you think we should ask her some questions?" Patrick asked.

"At least _he_ pays attention." Caroline said.

"Fine," Lisbon said. "She can go with Social Services from the station."

"So, that means I gotta get my stuff." Caroline said. Lisbon nodded. She turned and headed for the house.

"Don you think-"

"Someone should go with her?" Patrick finished. She smiled.

"Smart guy." She said, continuing into the house. Patrick followed her.

"Oh, no you don't," Lisbon said. "Van Pelt, you go with her." Grace nodded and followed Caroline into the house. She looked around the empty living room, trying not to stare at the puddles of blood on the couch and the floor.

"Up here!" Caroline called. Van Pelt walked up the stairs finding Caroline in the smallest bedroom at the back of the house.

The walls were stark white and bare. The bed spread was bland. The belongings in the room were beyond sparse.

Caroline grabbed a duffel bag from under her bed and threw it on the bed. She opened the dresser and piled the few items of clothing that resided there in the bag.

"Um, how long have you lived here?" Van Pelt asked.

"About a year," She said. Van Pelt tried not to look concerned. Caroline chuckled. "Yeah I know. Pathetic, isn't it?" She tossed a few very tattered paperbacks into the bag. "The really sad thing is the guest room is bigger than my room." She chuckled again.

"I…I, um…" Grace was at a loss.

"Don't worry about it," Caroline said. "By the way, that's motive." Van Pelt jumped at her words. The girl sighed and gently placed the most beat up, worn CD player Van Pelt had ever seen into her bag and zipped it up. The bag wasn't even half full.

"Alright, off to interrogation." She said, throwing the bag over her shoulder and tossing her blonde curls. Van Pelt bit her lip.

"_She reminds me of someone."_ She thought. She shook her head and followed the teenager out.

_CBI Headquarters, Sacramento, CA_

"What are they doing in there?" Lisbon asked, growing impatient. "I mean, how long could it possibly take to interrogate a teenager?" Patrick smiled, amused by her growing frustration.

"Maybe Cho and Rigsby can't handle a child." Van Pelt suggested.

"Nah," Patrick said. "Rigsby's great with kids." He smiled wryly at Van Pelt, who looked away from him.

"Then what's the problem?" Lisbon asked, throwing up her arms. Before Patrick could answer there was a loud slam of a door.

Cho came around the corner, shaking his head but looking as collected as ever. Rigsby, on the other hand, was red faced and furious. His breath heavy, brows joined, jaw clenched.

"What's wrong?" Lisbon said.

"That girl!" Rigsby exclaimed.

"Are you telling me that the two of you can't handle a little girl?" Lisbon asked. Rigsby shook his head.

"That is _not_ a little girl! She, she plays these mind games. And she talks in riddles. And she thinks it's funny to confuse us! She's, she's…him!" He pointed at Patrick. Lisbon looked from Patrick to Rigsby.

"What?" She asked. Patrick grinned.

"Really?" He said.

"Yeah," Cho nodded. "She's like your female mini-me." Patrick stood.

"Oh, I have to go talk to her." He said.

"Did she say anything about her foster parents?" Lisbon asked.

"Hell if I know, Boss," Rigsby said. "I told you, I couldn't understand half of what she said." Patrick was already walked toward the interrogation room.

"Hey!" Lisbon yelled. "Wait! You're crazy if you think you're going in there alone!" Patrick ignored her and walked into the interrogation room.

Caroline was sitting back in the chair, humming leisurely and staring into space. She sat up when he entered, smiling in a friendly matter.

"You must be Jane," She said. "Though I would think you'd have different parts." Patrick smiled.

"My name is Patrick Jane." He said, extending his hand. She shook it.

"Caroline Joyce. Do you want to question me too?" She asked. Lisbon entered the room.

"Yes, I do," He said. "Why did you terrorize my coworkers?" She smiled.

"Because it's easy. And very fun to do. That Rigsby's very easy to frustrate." She said. Patrick smiled.

"I'll give you that." He said.

"I _know_ you've messed with him the same way before. He kept yelling at Agent Cho that I was doing the same things you do." She folded her arms and looked at him expectantly.

"Very true," He admitted. "So, you enjoy toying with people as much as I do."

"Oh yes, very much so." She grinned.

"Jane, you're supposed to be interrogating her." Lisbon snapped.

"Right. Did you kill your foster parents?"

"Caroline, don't you say another word." A stiff, balding man in glasses entered the room, looking agitated and determined. He sat down next to Caroline, setting his briefcase on the table.

"You must be from Social Services." Caroline and Patrick said in unison.

"Yes," The man said, nervously glancing at them. "I'm Alan Glenn. And as of right now _I_ am Caroline's legal guardian." He said. Caroline rolled her eyes.

"Like I need you." She mumbled.

"What?" Alan asked.

"She thinks you think she's just a stupid child and you're actually the idiot." Patrick explained, smiling. Alan looked at her.

"Yeah," She nodded. "Right on the nose." He frowned and turned his attention back to Patrick.

"Now, you were saying?" He said stiffly. Patrick looked at Caroline.

"Did you kill your foster parents?" He repeated.

"No, I didn't." She said honestly. He nodded.

"But you didn't like them, did you?" He asked.

"Absolutely not." She said. He leaned forward.

"And why is that?" He asked.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Alan barked.

"Oh, butt out, Al," Caroline snapped. "They didn't like me much. In fact, they pretended I wasn't even there."

"So, they ignored you?" He pried.

"They locked me in my room for days on end." She said calmly.

"That's not possible," Alan chided. "Walter and Vanessa were very good people."

"Are you saying I'm lying?" Caroline asked, eyes fiery.

"Caroline, we look into our foster parents very thoroughly to avoid abuse." He said.

"You're doing a really crappy job." She muttered.

"You're wrong about them Caroline."

"So you _are_ calling her a liar." Patrick stated.

"Do you have more questions for her or can we leave?" Alan huffed.

"Caroline, were your foster parents abusive?" Patrick asked.

"Don't answer that." Alan snapped.

"Why, because you think you know what's 'best' for me? I met you ten minutes ago. You don't know me, or anything about me. I am perfectly capable of speaking for myself. I've been on my own since I was three years old with no one to protect me or care about me. I don't need _you_ telling me what to do, Al!" She spat. Patrick giggled. She smiled back at him.

"Yes, they were Mr. Jane." She said.

"Please, Patrick." He said.

"Alright, Patrick, can we hurry this along, we're in a rush." Alan said.

"Oh, no, you have to call him Mr. Jane." Caroline said. Patrick nodded.

"Actually, you aren't taking her anywhere," He said. "She's a suspect in this investigation and we'd like to keep her here," Caroline's eyes lit up. "Besides, foster homes are overcrowded. Another girl could make some people's lives very difficult. Especially one with a brilliant mind like hers." Caroline nodded. Alan frowned.

"I don't think it would be in her best interest to-"

"Didn't you hear me, you pencil pushing buffoon? The only person that gives a damn about my best interests is me, so don't pretend you do. I'll stay here." Alan frowned.

"You can call and check on her if you'd like." Patrick defended. Alan stood, realizing he was being outnumbered.

"Fine, keep her!" He threw up his arms in defeat and stormed out of the room. Caroline smiled at Patrick.

"Thank you," She said. "You don't know how long it's been since I've been around a person of intellect." She grabbed her bag and stood.

"I feel your pain." He said. Her grin broadened.

"So, where do I go now?" She asked. Patrick opened the door and steered her in the right direction.

"Jane!" Lisbon called. He gestured for Caroline to keep walking. "Are you sure about this?"

"Absolutely, she'll be fun to have around." He said cheerfully.

"She's your responsibility then." She said.

"Oh God, there's two of them!" Rigsby exclaimed. Patrick smiled.

"Oh yes, she'll be a lot of fun."

--What'd you think? Please tell me!!--


	2. Red Handed

2

**Red Handed**

_CBI Headquarters, Sacramento, CA_

Rigsby was going insane. Caroline _was_ Jane's twin, except, well, younger and a girl. And the worst of it was, they fueled each other. If Patrick made a comment, Caroline would laugh or point out something else out and he'd keep going. And visa versa for her. Van Pelt kept her mouth shut. Cho was a silent as ever and Lisbon had the luxury of fleeing to her office.

As of now Caroline and Patrick were testing each other on things they could do and things they couldn't.

"So, you think you can read people as well as I can?" Patrick asked. She nodded, crossing her legs Indian style across from him on the couch.

"Correction, I _know _I can," She said. "I could ask you the same thing." He smiled.

"Prove it then. What can you tell about me?" He challenged. Her brows furrowed.

"You touch your wedding ring a lot, which means you're cheating on your wife or she passed away. And since I know you're not the cheating type, I would say that she died," She said. Patrick's face fell slightly. Caroline's eyes grew. "She was killed." She stated, feeling terrible. She had taken him off guard. Patrick glanced at her, then back to the floor.

"Keep going." He said quietly. She swallowed.

"You lost someone else too," She said cautiously, quietly enough that the others couldn't hear her. "Your child," He looked at her again. "Your daughter." He nodded. Now she felt even worse. She saw the pain in his eyes, the vulnerability in his face, and she felt awful.

"Patrick, Patrick I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" She began. Patrick smiled.

"Don't be. That was very good," He said approvingly, all signs of previous discomfort gone. "Now, what can you tell me about them?" He gestured to the other three people in the office, loud enough so they could hear now. Caroline smiled.

"Those two," She pointed at Van Pelt and Rigsby, who were now paying attention. "Are madly in love but neither one of them will say so." She observed. Rigsby coughed. Van Pelt's face matched her hair.

"And why do you think that is?" Patrick asked, grinning.

"Well, Grace doesn't find it professional to get involved with a coworker and Wayne doesn't say anything because he's a little afraid of commitment and he doesn't think she feels the same way." She grinned smugly. Rigsby glared at her and Patrick. Cho turned.

"Dude, you got called out by a little girl." He said dryly.

"Shut up!" Rigsby spat. Caroline grinned.

"I'm going to go insane by the end of this." Van Pelt said.

"Aw, lighten up, Grace," Caroline said. "Besides, he told me to." Van Pelt frowned.

"Would you like her to call you by your surnames instead?" Patrick asked.

"No," Rigsby said. "Sounds weird coming from a kid."

"I'm calling him Cho, though," Caroline said. "Kimball just sounds weird."

"Can you two behave for five minutes?" Lisbon asked, making her presence known. Patrick and Caroline looked at each other, smiled, and looked back at her.

"No." They said. Lisbon sighed. It was amazing how much they looked alike. Same curly blonde hair. Same bright blue eyes. Same mischievous, dimpled grin.

"Jane, can I talk to you for a minute?" She asked. Patrick stood.

"You're in trouble." Caroline mumbled. He chuckled.

"Do you think she killed her foster parents?" Lisbon asked once they were away from the group.

"Absolutely not." He said bluntly.

"Is that because she's your friend?" She asked sternly.

"Before I even met her formally I knew she didn't do it." He defended.

"And why is that?" Her tone was still accusing.

"Two reasons. Caroline is 5'1 and 125 pounds, at the most. Mr. Wesson was 6'4 and 318 pounds. There is no way she could bludgeon him to death while he had a fighting chance. And there were signs of struggle so we know he wasn't asleep when the killer attacked. And two there were large boot prints leading into the back window in the kitchen. The window was still wide open when we left." He said triumphantly.

"And when were you gonna share this with the rest of the class?" Lisbon said, exasperated.

"Just now." Patrick smiled.

"And why didn't Caroline hear anything?" She asked. Patrick thought for a moment.

"I'll go ask." He said, walking back into the room. He sat back down on the couch.

"So, did she give you detention?" Caroline asked wryly. Patrick grinned.

"No. But she did want me to ask you some questions." He said.

"Ugh. More inquiries. Alright, fire away." She huffed.

"On the night of the murder you said you didn't hear anything, why?" He asked. Caroline reached in her bag and pulled out her CD player.

"It may look unimpressive but this thing has sound to kill. Plus, I was listening to some angry Beethoven." She said. He laughed.

"You cease to amaze me. Now, why were you listening to it?" She sighed.

"Walter and Vanessa were starting to have marital problems. They yelled through all hours of the night. A kid can't sleep." She said. He nodded.

"That's all the professional ones I have. Can I ask some personal ones?"

"Go ahead." She permitted.

"Why did your foster parents only have one child?" He asked. She smirked and shook her head.

"I was there to make them look good. I completed their little family for Walter's work functions. He owned his own big cooperate business and it wasn't a good thing for him and his wife to be married without at least one kid. It didn't look good. They didn't want me for anything else, so why would they have more?" She said. He nodded.

"How many foster homes have you been in?" He asked. Caroline thought for a moment.

"Six," She said. "The longest I've stayed with one family was two years."

"And why is that?" He asked. Caroline bit her lip and looked at the floor. There was a long lapse of silence between them. "Caroline, you have the right to pass."

"Pass." She whispered.

"Where they all bad experiences?"

"All but one. But the lady was so old she passed away in less than a year. She was so nice. And she actually liked me," She said. "But there's no need for nostalgia. What's done is done."

"You've had a long life, haven't you?" He asked. She nodded.

"Yes," She shook her head. "So, have you guys found out anything about the person that killed Walter and Vanessa?"

"No," Cho said. "We have absolutely nothing." She nodded.

"Okay, Patrick, I have a question for you." She said.

"And what is that?"

"Where on Earth am I sleeping?"

* * *

Caroline was at the station, sleeping on the couch. Patrick was going to his apartment to grab a few things and then he was heading back there. He wasn't going to leave her alone with the security guard all night. He pulled his car into the parking space and got out, looking up at his room without thinking about it.

Three flights of stairs later he reached his apartment door. He reached into his pocket for the keys, but that was before he noticed the door was already open. Well, broken into. He tensed.

He stared at the door for a moment, listening to see if the person was still inside. That familiar cold silence met him. He cautiously pushed the door open.

The mess that greeted him was impressive. Everything he owned was thrown on the floor. Some of it broken. Actually, most of it was broken. He shook his head. Then, something dawned on him.

His eyes grew and his breath quickened. He ran into his bedroom, which was just as trashed as the rest of the house, and looked around for a particular dresser drawer.

He found it, but not what he was looking for. He looked around in the never ending mess and started to dig. An hour later he had to come to terms with the fact that it was gone. He leaned against a wall, on the verge of hyperventilating. Tears formed in his eyes without his permission and he wiped them away.

"_No,"_ He thought frantically. _"No, no. Please, no."_ It was gone. His wife's wedding ring was gone. He shook his head and shut his eyes.

"_Why that? Why did they have to take that?"_

Patrick looked around the empty and recently destroyed apartment. So empty it seemed to echo with his breath.

"_I would have given them anything else."_ He shook his head again. He couldn't stay here. He had to leave. He bolted out the door, locking it behind him with shaking hands.

* * *

Caroline kept her eyes closed when she heard someone walk in. The steps were slow and quiet, but not those of someone that was trying to be quiet. It wasn't until she heard soft sobbing that she opened her eyes. The man was in the shadows, but she knew those curls.

"Patrick?" She said quietly. He went rigid. She didn't move. He wiped his eyes and sniffed. He walked into the dim light that the lamp in the corner cast, smiling. She knew better. She could still see the wetness in his eyelashes, the redness in his eyes.

"It's a little late for you to be up, isn't it?" He asked. God, that smile was so fake.

"Don't do that," She said, sitting up. "What happened?" The smile went away so fast it was like she hit it off.

"My house was…broken into," He said. She grimaced. "And…" His voice was strangled. "And they got my wife's wedding ring." Tears welled in his eyes again. Caroline wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. He was taken aback for a moment. But slowly, he hugged her back.

"It'll be okay, Patrick," She assured. "I'll find it, okay?" He knew she never would, but it was still a nice thought. "Where are you gonna sleep?" She asked. It was irrelevant, she knew that, but it was the only thing she could think of to change the subject.

"Uh, the floor, or something." He said, his voice broken.

"You can take the couch," She offered. "I'm young, I can sleep wherever." He shook his head.

"No, that's uh, not the polite thing to do." He said. His voice made her chest hurt.

"Well, I'm small. That couch is kinda big." She said. He nodded.

"Alright." He was too tired to fight her. And he didn't have the strength to outwit her right now. Or try to.

He fell asleep before her, leaving her ever still worried about him. She still hugged him, not knowing any other way to comfort him.

She would get that ring back; that she knew. If it killed her she would.

"I'll get it back, Patrick," She whispered. "I promise."

--K, so I wasn't sure where Patrick lived so I took a stab at it. I know he has that house in Malibu, but that's kind of a drive from Sacramento. Anyway, feedback, please!--


	3. Red Means Stop

3

**Red Means Stop**

Lisbon was one of the first people in the office the next morning. She walked through the silent part of the office where her specific team worked, wondering how Caroline had faired through the night. That's when she saw the two people asleep on the couch.

Caroline was nearly hanging off of the couch. If Jane hadn't had his arm wrapped around her back she would have fallen onto the floor. Patrick was hugging her to him, tightly. Almost as if he feared she would disappear. Caroline's fingers were clinging to his shirt, the same fear apparent. Lisbon shook her head. They looked even more alike when they were asleep. It was scary.

"Mornin', Boss," Rigsby said in a loud and boisterous voice. Caroline stirred, her brows furrowing. Lisbon glared at Rigsby. "What?" He asked, his voice even louder.

"You should be quiet," Cho said quietly, entering behind him. "Jane and Jane Jr. are asleep." Rigsby winced, but the damage was done.

"Do you have an objection to sleep?" Caroline groaned, twisting around to face them. She fell flat onto the floor before Lisbon could warn her. Patrick jolted awake, gasping at the noise. He looked down at the source, who was rubbing her backside; her face screwed up in discomfort, and laughed.

"Not funny Patrick." Caroline mumbled.

"Oh, yes it is. Quite funny in fact," She scowled at him. "Don't be like that you would have laughed if it was me."

"Can't disagree with you there," She grinned, standing. "So, where's Grace?"

"Right here." Van Pelt said.

"And right on cue as well," Caroline said. "You should teach you colleagues to be so punctual." Van Pelt ignored her and sat down at her desk.

"Are you hungry?" Lisbon asked.

"I'm fifteen, hungry is my life," She smiled and sat a white box on the edge of Van Pelt's desk. "Sweet! Doughnuts!"

"You know she could eat that whole box, right?" Patrick said. Lisbon nodded.

"At her age, she could eat everything on the planet." She said.

"Hey," Caroline said, mouth partially full. "Stop talking about me while I'm still in the room."

"Sorry." Patrick said.

"Caroline, can you think of anyone that might want to hurt your foster parents?" Lisbon asked. Caroline thought for a moment.

"No, but Buddy Ross might be able to." She said.

"And who's Buddy Ross?"

"He's Walter's lap dog. Well, before he died. He did anything and everything Walter asked him to. I think his actual title was personal assistant but everybody else referred to him as the 'Royal Ass-Kisser'." She said. Patrick laughed.

"Where can we find him?" Lisbon asked.

"At work. Now that Walter's dead Buddy's in charge until the VP fills out all of the paperwork." Caroline said.

"How do you know all of this?" Rigsby asked. "I thought you didn't like your foster parents."

"I have this curse to pay an uncanny amount of attention to everything that's put in front of me." Caroline explained.

"It's an uncommon curse." Patrick said.

"And yet, you both seem to have it," Lisbon said. Patrick and Caroline laughed. "I suppose we should get going then."

"Can I come?" Caroline asked.

"Absolutely not." Rigsby said.

"Wayne, I was talking to your superior." Caroline said. Lisbon frowned and looked at Patrick.

"Both of you on your best behavior. Jane, you're her babysitter, alright?" She said.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Van Pelt asked.

"If I don't let her go she and Jane will gang up on me and throw every good argument they can come up with at me until I give in. I'm just cutting corners."

Everyone began filing out of the office.

"She told us to be on our best behavior." Patrick said, snatching a doughnut out of the box in front of Caroline.

"Are we going to listen?" Caroline asked. Patrick grinned.

"Now where's the fun in that?"

* * *

_Wesson Inc., Fairfield, CA_

"I was very sorry to hear that Mr. and Mrs. Wesson passed," Buddy said. "Do you have any idea who could have done it?" He asked, glancing sideways at Caroline.

"We're working on it," Lisbon said. "Now, Mr. Ross do you know of anyone that would want to harm Mr. or Mrs. Wesson?"

"Uh, no. Not that I could think of." He said.

"You're lying." Patrick and Caroline said.

"S'cuse me?" Buddy said, bewildered.

"You keep twiddling your fingers and you didn't look her in the eye when you answered her." Patrick said, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"Which leads us to believe that you know who did it. Or that it might be you." Caroline said.

"Why is she here?" Buddy spat.

"Not the point at the moment," Patrick said. "So, who do you think it was, Buddy?" Buddy sighed.

"It could have been Roy Bennet. He's the vice president. He and Mr. Wesson were always arguing about new policies and how things should be ran. They actually got into it pretty good yesterday." He admitted.

"Why couldn't you just tell us that?" Lisbon asked.

"Because he's a very loyal lap dog." Caroline said. Buddy scowled at her. She smiled.

"Where is Mr. Bennet now?" Lisbon asked, tying to ignore Jane and Caroline.

"Up in Mr. Wesson's old office." Buddy said. Lisbon nodded politely.

"Thank you for your time," She said, turning. "I thought I told you two to behave!" She whispered harshly.

"Hey, we helped you out." Caroline said.

"And believe it or not that's all we were trying to do." Patrick said.

"No," Lisbon said, shaking her head. "You two like messing with people dumber than you." They looked at each other and grinned.

"I suppose we do." They said. Lisbon rolled her eyes and headed for the elevator.

"I think we made her mad." Patrick said.

"She'll get over it. This is too much fun." Caroline said.

"Hey, Lisbon, wait up!" Patrick called. The elevator doors shut. He looked down at Caroline.

"So, we take the stairs."

* * *

They reached the top floor before Lisbon, who exited the elevator grumbling about ten people stopping on every floor on the way up. Caroline and Patrick were leaning on the wall across from it, waiting for her patiently.

"How did you guys-?"

"We took the stairs." Caroline said.

"Not only is it better for you than taking the elevator you also do not have to deal with pushy business people." Patrick said.

"Just come on." Lisbon said irritably. They smiled at each other again and followed her to Bennet's office. An official looking man was walking down the hallway toward them.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"I'm Agent Lisbon with the CBI," Lisbon said, showing the man her badge. "We're looking for Roy Bennet." The man's eyes grew and a split second later he dropped the files in his hands and took off in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Stop!" Lisbon bellowed, sprinting after him.

"Should we help her?" Caroline asked.

"No," Patrick said. "She runs very fast. And Rigsby and Cho are outside if he gets that far."

"So, what should we do?" Caroline asked.

"Snoop around in his office." He grinned. She smiled back and followed him into the vacant office.

--Alright, this is it for awhile guys! Feedback please!--


	4. Blushes

--Here's more guys!--

4

**Blushes**

Though they had no warrant to search Mr. Bennet's office, Caroline and Patrick looked around anyway.

"We should have a warrant." Patrick stated.

"That we should," Said Caroline, opening a desk drawer and rifling through it. "But we _do_ have probable cause because he ran."

"Oh, then I feel better." He said cheerily. Caroline shook her head, looking around at the office.

"No wonder they could never agree on anything," She said. "Roy's all business and Walter was all play. Roy has the personality of a teaspoon. Walter could charm Queen Elizabeth. Roy does all the work; Walter gets the credit with the big-wigs. I'd say that's pretty good motive, wouldn't you?"

"Definitely." He agreed.

"This is _way_ too clean for any normal person," She said, stifling a shiver. "I mean, I can understand cleanliness but this is almost obsessive compulsive." He chuckled.

"He's a dormant control freak," He said, stepping behind Bennet's desk and fiddling with the computer. "Most likely he lets it out in his personal relationships with women." She nodded.

The door opened.

"What are you two doing?" Lisbon asked. Caroline shut the cabinet she had opened, Patrick swiftly stepped out from behind Bennet's desk.

"Waiting for you." They said. She glared at them, seeing their lie.

"You are snooping around his office, aren't you?" She accused.

"Did you catch him?" Patrick asked innocently.

"Yes," She said, allowing him to avoid the question but pursing her lips in irritation. "Rigsby had to tackle him outside, but we caught him."

"Oh, good." Caroline said.

"Yes, excellent," Patrick agreed. "We should go talk to him. I'm intrigued as to why he ran." Lisbon frowned.

"You _know_ why he ran." She said.

"Yes," He said, glancing at Caroline, who smiled back at him. "But you don't. I think it only for the best if you find out the old fashioned way."

"Why?" Lisbon snapped.

"Because just telling you straight away is cheating. And we do want you to work enough to that salary of yours. You know, earn it." Caroline said, still smiling. Patrick nodded and tried to look concerned. Lisbon wasn't amused.

"You two are unbelievable." She said shaking her head. They grinned at each other and followed her out of the office.

* * *

_CBI Headquarters, Sacramento, CA_

Caroline and Patrick were told to wait outside the interrogation room with Van Pelt and Rigsby while the interrogation was going on due to their "misbehaving", as Lisbon put it.

"So, you guys are in trouble?" Rigsby asked.

"Per say, yes." Caroline said.

"Lisbon's angry that we won't tell her why Mr. Bennet ran." Patrick stated.

"You know?" Rigsby said, raising an eyebrow.

"Duh." Said Caroline, rolling her eyes. Patrick chuckled.

"Teenagers." Rigsby snorted.

"So, Mr. Bennet," Lisbon said inside the room. The others watched through the two-way mirror. "Is there a particular reason you ran from me?" Bennet folded his arms."  
"I want a lawyer." He said, straightening his tie for the thousandth time.

"Why, do you have something to hide?" Cho asked. Bennet frowned.

"Certainly not." He huffed.

"Then why don't you just talk to us?" Lisbon suggested.

"W-what is this about, anyway?" He stammered.

"You and your boss fought constantly over how things should be run," Lisbon said, placing her hands on the back of a chair, staring at Bennet with her authority like aura. "And now he's dead, he and his wife both."

"Wait, you think _I_ had something to do with that?" He asked, his flushed face beaded with sweat. He'd been blushing since they had cuffed him, and the stress hadn't helped.

"You had every reason to be involved." Lisbon stated.

"I-I had _nothing_ to do with Walter's death, I assure you. If you want to talk to someone that might be involved talk to that foster kid of theirs. Carol, or something. Goodness, I thought…" He stopped himself, like he had said too much.

"You thought what, Mr. Bennet?" Cho asked. The blush that had faded slightly came rushing back.

"He thought this was about his wife." Patrick and Caroline whispered.

"I…I thought this…was about…my wife." He admitted. The two friends grinned. Van Pelt and Rigsby sighed.

"What happened with your wife?" Lisbon asked. Bennet frowned again, wiping his brow.

Rigsby and Van Pelt looked expectantly at the two know-it-alls.

"He hit her." They said.

"A few nights ago," Bennet began. "Cheryl and I had a fight. My temper got the best of me…and I hit her. I haven't been home since then," He paused. "It was an accident. It just…happened."

Caroline and Patrick grinned at each other and winked at the CBI agents.

"So, you ran because you thought your wife pressed charges?" Lisbon asked. Bennet nodded like a child being caught drawing on the walls.

"Yes." He mumbled. She sighed and walked out of the room, Cho close behind her.

"What do you think?" She asked.

"He didn't do it." Patrick said.

"And why do you say that?" She asked, exasperated.

"Did you see his office?" Caroline said. "Everything had its own place and a label for it. Nothing was ever amiss. That crime scene was a mess. There is no way he'd be such a messy murderer. He might poison someone or maybe a gunshot to the heart

"Should we arrest him for assault?" Asked Cho. Lisbon shook her head.

"We can't unless his wife presses charges." She said.

"She won't," Patrick said simply. "He's hit her before, I'm almost positive of that." Lisbon sighed.

"So, back to square one." She said, wilted.

"How long did it take you to catch him?" Patrick asked.

"About ten minutes," She said. "At least I didn't have to save your ass this time." He half shrugged.

"Alright," Lisbon said. "I guess I'll let him go."

* * *

"So," Patrick said, handing Caroline a cup of tea. "What can you tell me about everyone now?" Caroline sipped and looked up, thinking.

"Let's see…Teresa has a younger brother that she's had to direct his whole life. He's probably a troublemaker, and will be until the day he dies. That's why she bosses you around so much. You remind her of him."

"Very good," Patrick grinned. "And Grace, what about her?"

"_Major _Daddy issues," She said, taking another drink. "He ignored her for the most part but when he dud speak to her he was very critical.

"Wayne's father on the other hand always told him what to do. He can't think for himself. And if a rule is laid out he has to follow it. Both of his parents helped in that unintentional brainwashing.

"And Cho's family is military. At some point when he was close to my age he rebelled, most likely by vandalism or something mild like that. He ended up in Juvenile Hall and shaped up after that." She folded her arms, pleased with herself.

"And what have you learned about me?" He asked, smiling back at her. Her smile faded quickly and she took another drink. She looked up at him.

"I don't think I should…" She said.

"It's alright." He assured. "Please, go on." She took a deep breath.

"You…have a death wish, Patrick." She said so softly he could barely hear her. "Part of you, for the past six years, wants to die. You think it's justice for you to suffer for your mistake, but you want someone or something to stop you. You pray to a God that you say you don't think exists, and at times you really don't think He's there, to please just let you be with your wife and daughter again." She had done as he asked her to. And once again she regretted opening her over observant mouth.

If she had struck the wrong chords she didn't know what he would do.

But her fears were eased when he smiled at her like he had when this subject had last come up.

"Caroline, I must say I am impressed. That was brilliant, absolutely brilliant. You are, by a long shot, the most genius child I have had the pleasure to come across. I've said it once, I'll say it again, you never cease to amaze me." He lifted his cup, toasting her. Caroline blushed.


	5. Red Sky at Morning, Lisbon Take Warning

5

**Red Sky at Morning, Lisbon Take Warning**

Caroline woke up the next morning and Patrick wasn't next to her. She looked around, worried and still too tired to think clearly. It was early enough that everyone else wasn't here yet, that she knew. But where was Patrick.

She yawned, wiping sleep out of her eyes and stood, stumbling through the empty office.

"Patrick?" She called. She walked into the break room, thinking he might be making tea or something. She got no answer. She saw a man standing at the counter, shadowed. "Patrick?" She said. The man turned. It wasn't Patrick.

Caroline gasped, blood draining from her face and she backed away. The man grinned at her.

"C'mere, Caroline," He grunted, snapping the belt in his hand. "You c'mere right now an' it won't be so bad."

She turned and ran down the hallway toward the interrogation rooms. The man staggered after her, calling her name, getting closer and closer, whipping the belt at her.

"Patrick!" She screamed. He appeared at the end of the hallway, holding his arms out. She ran faster, but he never got closer. She ran and ran and ran but Patrick got farther and farther away. And the man behind her got closer. The belt hit her in the back and she fell. "PATRICK!"

"Caroline, Caroline!" Patrick shook the sleeping girl's shoulders. "Caroline, wake up!" Her eyes flew open and whirled around, searching for his face.

"Patrick," She said. "Patrick!"

"Shh…" He hugged her. "I'm here, I'm here. You're safe."

Cho had risen from his desk, Van Pelt had simply sat there, tense and looking worried. Rigsby was behind Cho, looking over his shoulder and Lisbon was standing in the doorway.

She had heard Caroline saying his name and noticed her distressed tone. She darted into the break room and told Patrick what was happening, and here they were.

Patrick held her to him.

"Shh…I've got you, you're okay. Shh…It's over." She pulled away from him, her breath under control, adrenaline subsided.

"I'm alright," She said. "Just a little freaked out, that's all."

"You scared the crap out of us!" Rigsby exclaimed.

"I appreciate your concern, Wayne, but I'll be alright. Everyone's entitled to nightmares every now and then, right?" She said, sounding cheery. They looked at her, worrisome, Patrick not included. "Go on, go back to your lives, citizens."

The others went back to work. Caroline sat back on the couch next to Patrick.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked. She smiled and nodded.

"Nothing I haven't dealt with before." She said.

**Three hours later…**

Caroline was fine. She and Patrick sat there talking while she listened to her CD player, Aerosmith this time.

Lisbon walked into the room, a large file in her hand, looking firm.

"Caroline, I need to talk to you." She said.

Patrick and Caroline glanced at each other before she stood.

"Okay." She said, heading for Lisbon's office as she directed her. Patrick started to rise as well.

"Oh no you don't," Lisbon said. "You're staying here." He frowned but sat back down. He glanced at the file in her hand.

"Lisbon, you sho-"

"No!" She said sternly. "Stay here. You're not interfering with this one."

Patrick looked at her darkly. She turned and walked toward her office.

She sat down in front of Caroline and tossed the file onto the desk.

"My record?" Caroline asked. Lisbon nodded. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You're a runaway, Caroline. You've ran away from nearly every foster home you've been to. Some more than once.

You've been sent to Juvenile Hall at least ten times for running away and fighting at school. In one incident you took down a boy that was at least two times your weight and a foot taller than you."

"What are you implying?" Caroline asked, her voice level and calm.

"That if you can beat up a boy that size two years ago you can certainly take down Walter with ease."

"You think I did it." It wasn't a question.

"I think you could if you wanted to. I think that you think you have a hard life because you're in foster care and other people can't possibly understand how hard you've had it. And that's not true."

"Really?" Caroline said.

"Yes. Every other child in foster care feels the same way you do. They feel like they have to lash out and lie and runaway simply because they have it so badly. I'm here to tell you, Caroline, that there is nothing different about you from the other kids, alright?" Caroline scoffed.

"You don't know anything about me." She said.

"I've dealt with troubled kids like you before. There's nothing special about you. Your life gives you no excuse to act out." Lisbon said sternly.

"Did you ever think that I _wanted_ to go to Juvie?" Caroline asked. Lisbon was taken aback. "Did you?" Lisbon remained silent. "At least in there you get three meals a day. At least they don't beat you until you can't move!" She stood.

"You don't know _shit_, Teresa! I ran away because it was the only way I might be able to get away from them!"

"Them who?"

"Every single foster parent that I have had!" Caroline bellowed. "Do other foster kids get thrown down the stairs into a cold basement for three days? No food, no water, hell there wasn't a place for me to piss!" She unzipped the jacket the Lisbon had never seen her take off and tossed it behind her.

Her arms were decorated with scars, some large, some small. Her right arm went at a slightly off angle, like it had been broken and set wrong. There were burn remnants as well, almost invisible, but they were there.

"How about getting tossed into a bathtub filled with water so hot it's cold? Do other kids get that? Or getting thrown to the ground day after day by some drunken bastard that has his way with you and there's nothing you can do about it?!" She was crying now. "I was twelve, Teresa, twelve! When I was nine I tied to a post outside and belted over and over again. And you know how those assholes kept me cooled off? By dumping booze on my head! Threw the bottles at me too! I've had my head held under the water in a sink until the bubbles almost stopped!" She shrieked. Tears leaked down her face, unstoppable. Her face was red, her fists were clenched, and Lisbon couldn't move.

"Do you smoke, Teresa?" She asked. Lisbon didn't answer. Caroline grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it up. Small, circle shaped burns covered her stomach, faded as well. "Tanya and Robert did. I was seven. They tied me to the cot they called my bed and did this to me for four, hours! You don't know anything about me Teresa! I've had everything under the sun done to me! But I did not kill Walter and Vanessa! All they did was lock me in my room. I saw that as a damn blessing! Do you hear me? I DID NOT KILL THEM!" She turned and ran out of the office.

Patrick, who was walking down the hall headed for the bathroom, was startled when he saw her. She ran at him, bawling, and wrapped her arms around his waist as tightly as she could, burying her face in his shirt.

"Caroline, what's wrong?" He asked. She said nothing. He looked down at her bare arms and closed his eyes. He hugged her, smoothing her long blonde hair. Lisbon walked out of her office, looking imploringly at him.

"Caroline," He lifted her face, looking into her swollen eyes. "Go sit on the couch, I'll be there in just a minute, okay?" He said gently. She nodded and walked down the hallway after reluctantly letting him go.

Patrick turned to Lisbon, his demeanor changing from concerned to infuriated.

"You don't listen to me," He said dangerously. "You never listen to me and now, there's a consequence for it. If you would have taken ten seconds to let me explain to you that she has been severely abused since she was three years old none of this would have happened."

"Jane, I didn't-"

"Don't," He growled. "If you would take the time to pay attention you will see that I am right ninety five percent of the time," He reached in his pocket and shoved his CBI card in her face. "That says 'Consultant'. You refused to let me do my job and now, a young girl is reliving the worst moments in her life because of your mistake."

"Jane-"

"No," He snapped. She'd never seen him this angry in her life. "That girl's pain and tears is on your hands. You can fire me if you like for speaking to you like this, I don't care. I just want you to know what you have done."

He hadn't raised his voice to her. He hadn't called her a single name, but Teresa Lisbon had never been more ashamed of herself in her life.

* * *

Caroline was on the couch, her face in her hands. Van Pelt, Cho and Rigsby were glancing at her, concerned.

Patrick ignored them and scooped Caroline up into his lap, resting her head against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried.

"Shh…They can't hurt you anymore. Sh…"

"Patrick." She sobbed.

"I've got you, I've got you, shhh…I'm here."

And she was grateful for that. He was the only person on this planet that cared about her, truly cared. She hugged him tighter, and she wasn't strong enough to push those awful memories away.

--More soon!--


	6. Scarlet Letter

6

**Scarlet Letter**

_Somewhere in Indiana, 8 years ago_

She walked down the near vacant street, peeking around every corner to watch for cop cars. If they found her they'd send her back. Back to that horrible place. She pulled the sleeves of her jacket down, not wanting to see the burns there. The burns from the bathtub.

She hoisted her bag over her shoulder, securing it more and continued to walk. The cooling twilight air pressed against her, caressing her face. She shut her eyes and sighed.

She had at least a hundred dollars saved up. And she could get money other ways. Older ladies with kids that had grown up liked to give money to little girls like her. Ya know, the cute ones.

And she was cute. Curly blonde hair, big blue eyes, a dimpled grin and tattered clothes. Yeah, she could get about whatever she wanted. And people were easy to fool. Easy to make believe something that wasn't completely true. She could get anyone to do or say anything. And she was seven.

She heard a car coming and she jumped behind a building. Even if it wasn't a cop it could be someone that would call one. A child on the side of the road with a bag all alone would make anyone freak out.

She spent the night under a bridge. And at five thirty in the morning a car pulled up and a cop got out. She didn't wake up until he was carrying her into the station with his jacket draped over her.

She tried to tell him what was happening at the house she was currently residing in, but he didn't even ask her why she ran away. They thought it was just for stupid kid reasons, she assumed.

The cop that picked her up was named David. He was nice, really nice. He gave her a doughnut and a bottle of chocolate milk. That was the best meal she'd had in a long time. At least she wasn't digging for leftovers on trash day right now. He called her honey but didn't listen to a word she tried to say.

Tanya and Robert picked her up at noon. They were burning her with their cigarettes an hour later for running away. They shipped her off late the next day when the burns became less inflamed.

_Boston New York, 3 years ago_

She knew better now. Now she had over six hundred dollars in her bag. She didn't look so little anymore, but she could still get money if she needed it. Just not as easily as she used to.

Night had fallen hours ago and she knew better than to keep walking around, especially in this city. She walked behind Mario's pizza place, breathing in that smell, the smell of a thousand pizzas that had been cooked that day. That solitary bare bulb hung in the otherwise empty alley was a comforting sight. It seemed so beautiful in the darkness.

She leaned against the whitewash brick wall, sliding down it and onto the ground that was covered in God knows what.

She looked down at the faded circles on her stomach, thinking they were nothing compared what she had been through since she had received those. Her thighs still throbbed from the force of Nick's weight on them.

Tears pooled in her eyes before she could stop them. If she was caught this time she would go to Juvie for a month and most likely be shipped somewhere else. Good. That's why she ran. For the inevitability that she would never have to set foot near those people again.

She unzipped her duffel bag and pulled out her CD player and her CD case.

She turned it on and leaned her head back against the cold wall, letting the music claim her mind.

Her thoughts were buzzing too loudly, the memories too fresh in her mind. She reached in her bag and pulled out the only picture she had ever owned.

A man and a woman smiled up at her, arms wrapped around each other, love sparkling in their eyes. They had been married a year, and a small bump protruded from the woman's stomach. She had curly blonde hair and green eyes. The man was dark haired with the most brilliant blue eyes you would ever see. Her parents, Kevin and Marie. Mom and Dad.

Her mother gave up her own life for Caroline's, living only long enough to name her and beg her husband to take care of her like she was made of gold plated glass. She was christened Caroline Marie Joyce that day, and her father loved her very much. He told her so all the time.

Three years later she was with a babysitter when they got a phone call. Her father had been in a car accident. The other driver was drunk.

The last time she saw her father he told her to be careful, to be brave, and do great things. He touched her cheek, and he died. That memory would forever be in place no matter what she did to forget it. That was the only memory that she had of him. The rest she had been told by a social worker a few years later.

The man that had driven the semi that killed her father got thirty years for both DWI and manslaughter. He wrote her a letter apologizing for what he had done. She had written in her six year old scrawl that she forgave him, but his words would not bring her father back to her.

Not for the first time she wondered what it would have been like if they would have lived. Would she be happy? Would she know the difference? Would she take them for granted? There was no way to tell. But she did know that she wouldn't now. Not after what she had seen. Not after what she had been through.

She started to cry, Mozart's "Dies Irae" blaring in her ears, imagining that this was all a horrible dream and she would wake up in a room she could call her own, to parents who loved her, who hugged her and smothered her with love. She had never known that feeling before. Not that she remembered. She buried her face in her knees and pulled her jacket closer around her shoulder, hoisting the hood over her head, shielding herself away from the ugly world around her.

_Las Vegas, Nevada, 1 year ago_

The boy had called her a whore. Dennis Harman had called her a whore. And she had come unglued. She lost all interest in being good. Her grades meant nothing now. Anything she had achieved meant nothing. All that mattered was her pride.

He grinned smugly at her, wondering what she would say. She had outwitted him several times, and yet he continued to come back for more.

He was a rather large boy, and he must have weighed a lot, considering his head was full of meat and lead. She could take him.

She had to jump to land her first punch in his face. He staggered back, blood dripping from his nose, shocked that she did it. The other children in the crowd started to cheer like the bloodthirsty Neanderthals she knew they were. Dennis swung at her head with a meaty fist but she ducked it. She rammed her small fist into his gut as far as it would go, making him double over down to her level.

She punched him again, square in the jaw. And did so three more times before he even realized she was doing it. One last uppercut under his chin sent him flying back, taking her with him when he grabbed a handful of her hair. She fell on top of him. He punched her good on her cheek, making stars dance in front of her eyes.

Infuriated, she struck his nose, hearing a satisfying crunch as it broke. He screamed, blood streaming down his face and struck her in his rage. She hit him once more and he was silent, and unconscious. She stood, her hair tousled, clothes ripped, nose bloody, cheek bruised. A teacher was walking over, finally noticing the crowd. He stalked over, looked at the large boy on the ground and then at her.

She was escorted to the office where an angry principal asked why she beat the snot out of another student. She told him the story and got off the hook with the school, but not with social services.

Before they came and claimed her she was pushed off on the school Nurse, Mrs. Beady, who had already treated Dennis and sent him to the hospital for his nose.

She tended to her nose and asked if she had been hit anywhere else. Even though Caroline said no she pushed up her sleeves and looked anyway.

She looked down at the bruises, the break that had left her right arm at a barely noticeable off angle, the scars, the old burns and her face went white.

"What happened to you, child?" The dark-skinned woman asked her. Caroline jerked her arms away from her and shoved her sleeves back down.

"Nothing I can't handle." She replied shortly. She noted the concern in the older woman's eyes and sighed.

"I won't be with these people for very long anyway. Once I go to Juvie they won't want me anymore."

The woman nodded but continued to stare at her until an officer came and picked her up. Luckily, she talked him out of the cuffs.

_Fairfield California, 3 days ago_

She was in her room, and she had been for some time now. A couple days, in fact. She was granted a bathroom break every six hours, and a shower every other day. Vanessa would shove food up to her twice a day, and other than that there was no communication between them. And Caroline liked that just fine.

She had her headphones clamped over her ears, listening to the famous "Symphony No. 9" by Ludwig von Beethoven to drown out her foster parent's yelling.

By the time the unidentified man came through the back window and killed them, she was sound asleep with "Symphony No. 5" blaring between her ears.

_Sacramento California, now_

Patrick held her, gently rocking her back and forth, soothing her as best as he could. The only CBI agents that were left in the office were Cho and Lisbon, and they were both in her office. Every once in awhile Cho would look out Lisbon's office at them.

Patrick took no notice. He was focused on the child in his arms, the one that was so strong and so composed until this moment. Now she seemed so small and fragile, and scared. She continued to tremble as her body was wracked with sobs.

Patrick had to bite back tears of his own several times now. Caroline kept speaking here and there, fragments of thoughts that tormented her mind.

"…Please, don't touch me…."

"…No, Daddy, come back! Please don't go…"

"…Don't let me go, Patrick…"

"…Don't make me go back. They cut me up…"

He doubted she knew she was saying these things aloud, and he wasn't about to ask her about it. He simply shushed her when her cries intensified, holding her tighter and kissing the top of her head.

Lisbon walked into the room well after her shift was over.

"I'm sorry, Jane." She said quietly. Patrick shook his head.

"No, I'm sorry. Why should you listen to me if I don't listen to you?" He said.

"Because you're right." Lisbon admitted. She left after that.

Now night had fallen and Caroline was asleep. Patrick lied down, laying her on top of him. Her head rested on his chest, her eyes swollen and red, her face still wet.

He sighed, blinking wetness out of his own eyes. Such a beautiful child, such a beautiful mind, and this is what life had dealt her. It wasn't right.

He looked up at the ceiling.

"Why her?" He whispered to the God he didn't know. "Why does she have to suffer and other less intelligent people have it so easily? It's not fair…Do you enjoy doing this to good people? You must…you took the life of a baby girl, you sadistic bastard!" The tears were there again, and this time they fell. "And now you've taken the innocence of a young girl with a mind most would die for. When do you stop? When?!"

He stroked Caroline's hair, brushing the leftover tears from her face as more and more poured down his own.

"I pray you grow up to do things so great no one will _ever_ forget your name. Then you'll show Him. You'll show Him that even _He_ can't stop greatness."

"Maybe I'll be great because he had this happen to me," Caroline said so softly he wasn't sure she spoke. "Maybe He did this because He loves me. And He loves you too, Patrick."

And she was asleep before he could speak.

--Aw... : ' ( More soon!--


	7. Red Eye

7

**Red Eye**

_CBI Headquarters, Sacramento, CA_

Caroline and Patrick were babbling about God knows what the next morning as Lisbon hesitated. She wouldn't be surprised if the girl never wanted to talk to her again. She'd had a shitty night sleep. She tossed and turned for hours, thinking about what Caroline had told her, and the look on her face when she did. And Jane. When Jane had talked to her afterward, he was seething. For a brief moment she thought he might strike her, not that she would blame him. When she went home that night she actually wished he had hit her.

_Stop bein' a baby, Teresa,_ She told herself. _Just go talk to her. She's rational. I mean, it's not like the girl's stupid…But she is a teenager._

She walked into the room, receiving the usual "Hi, Boss" from Rigsby, a polite smile from Van Pelt and a half-hearted wave from Cho. Caroline and Patrick didn't notice her.

"It was Syria." Caroline said, folding her arms.

"I'm telling you, it was Persia." Patrick retorted.

"No, Alexander the Great already _had_ Persia. It was Syria."

"She's right." Cho said, still staring at his monitor.

"And how do you know?" Patrick asked.

"Google." Cho replied.

Caroline smiled triumphantly, batting her eyelashes. Patrick rolled his eyes

"Caroline," Lisbon said, gathering her courage. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" The girl nodded and stood, bouncing her way into the break room.

"What's up?" She asked, leaning against the counter. Lisbon sighed.

"I'm sorry, about yesterday. I shouldn't have pushed you so much. You had every right to yell at me. And I apologize that you even had to." Lisbon said.

Caroline chuckled and shook her head.

"To be honest, I'm angry with myself for losing my composure. I told myself I wouldn't do that if someone brought up my past." She said.

"Everyone's entitled to it every now and then." Lisbon stated. Caroline shook her head.

"Not me. It's one of my own personal rules, number one to be exact. My rules aren't ones to break. So I am sorry that I yelled at you. How could you have known about all of that? You couldn't."

"So…You aren't mad?" Lisbon asked.

"Hell no," Caroline said, sitting down and leaning back in the chair. "Life's too short to hold grudges. And I'm not about to hold one for something so stupid."

Lisbon smiled, happy her and the young girl were at peace. Van Pelt entered the break room to refill her coffee mug. She glanced at Lisbon and Caroline.

"It's fine, Grace," Caroline said. "There won't be anymore of those horrible incidents as long as I'm here." Van Pelt smiled lightly and filled her cup, relieved.

Caroline looked between the two of them, an amused smile that hardly ever left her face in place.

"Just ask me." She said.

"What do you mean?" Lisbon asked. Caroline giggled.

"Don't be coy, I know that you and Grace have been talking, now ask me." She said. Van Pelt sat down next to Lisbon, across from Caroline.

"So," Van Pelt said. "You obviously know our question. Do you?" Caroline grinned.

"No. I can see why you would think so, though. Don't get me wrong he is quite handsome, but thinking or feeling such things about him is senseless." She said.

"So, you don't have a crush on Patrick?" Lisbon asked. Caroline laughed.

"Do _you_ have a crush on your father?" She asked. "That would be the equivalence in this situation." Lisbon smiled.

"Alright. We were just curious." She said.

"Oh, I can see where you would get your assumptions, but they are false, I'm sorry." She stood and skipped back into the office, plopping down next to Patrick.

"What was that about?" He asked. Caroline grinned.

"Now, Patrick, you should know that girl talk is strictly confidential. I couldn't tell you if I wanted to."

"Even if I say please?" He said slyly.

"Not unless you get a warrant, mister." She said defiantly. Patrick rolled his eyes.

"Women."

"Boss!" Rigsby yelled suddenly. Lisbon came around the corner. "Fairfield police department just got a call on their tip hotline. A neighbor said they might have saw who snuck in the back window of the Wesson's."

"Then why are we still here?" Caroline asked, jumping up. "C'mon, I want to get this investigation over with."

* * *

_Allen residence, Fairfield, CA_

"Caroline, what are you doing here?"

"I'm helping them, Mrs. Allen. Now could you tell Agent Lisbon what you saw?"

"Right," Mrs. Allen said. "Every night I watch the news and then I do the dishes. And the other night was no different. Now the window above my sink looks right into the Wesson's backyard. I saw someone movin' around back there, not that I look often, mind you. But there was a man back there. I didn't see him go into the window or I would have said something sooner. Just dawned on me when I saw that report on the Wesson's last night that what I saw could be important."

"Did you see what he looked like?" Rigsby asked.

"It was kinda dark but…" Mrs. Allen thought for a moment. "He was about 5'11, with, uh, dark hair. I couldn't see anything else."

"Thank you, Mrs. Allen. If you remember anything else let us know." Lisbon handed Mrs. Allen a card. They turned back to the cars.

"Did we learn anything?" Rigsby said.

Patrick and Caroline were whispering to each other, their heads close together.

"Hey!" Rigsby said. "Share with us less intelligent people." They grinned at each other.

"We have an idea." They said.

"Uh oh," Lisbon said. "What?" They grinned at each other again.

"We need to go back to Wesson Inc." Patrick said.

"Why?" Lisbon asked.

"We'll tell you when we get there."

--I know, it was short. The next one won't be!--


	8. Bloody Murder

8

**Bloodstained**

_Wesson Inc, Fairfield, CA_

"Jane, what is this about?" Lisbon asked, putting the large SUV in park. Patrick leaned forward from the back seat.

"We need you to arrest Mr. Ross and Mr. Bennet on probable cause." He said. Caroline nodded.

"Do you _have_ probable cause?" Lisbon asked.

"Of course we do!" Caroline said.

"And it would be..?" Lisbon ventured. Caroline and Patrick smirked. She sighed. "Alright, alright, I'm goin'." She opened the car door and stepped out, shaking her head and wondering why she trusted them so much.

"So," Patrick said, leaning back against the seat. "Which one do you want?" Caroline thought for a moment.

"I'll take Bennet. Buddy doesn't like me much." She said.

"Neither will Mr. Bennet when you're through with him." He chuckled. She shrugged.

"Eh, it happens," She said. "Now, we have to do this the legal way or Lisbon will seriously have you fired. So that means no hypnotizing." Patrick folded his arms in a fake pout.

"Fine," He said. "But no other censorship." She grinned.

"Well, I'm not gonna forbid you from doing anything that I was going to." She said.

"You really think Bennet will fess up to you?" Patrick asked.

"Duh," She scoffed. "Hello? I can do all the stuff you do, which entails getting anyone to confess. Eventually."

"Aren't we cocky." He said, smiling. She smiled back.

"I'm fifteen. If I'm not cocky _most_ of the time people start to wonder what's wrong with me. And I'm only cocky when I'm right." She said matter-of-factly.

"I am as well, it's alright." He said.

"Thanks, I feel _so_ much better now." She said, rolling her eyes. He smiled. She looked out the window, toward the building, and grinned.

Rigsby was shoving Buddy out of the door, Lisbon and Bennet close behind.

"Well, here we go." She said. Patrick nodded.

"Yep," He turned to her. "Are you ready for this to be over?" She nodded.

"Absolutely." Once the two suspects were in the car Lisbon got back in the SUV.

"I hope you two know what you're doing." She said, starting the engine. Patrick and Caroline smiled at each other.

"We definitely know exactly what we're doing." They said. She sighed.

"I hope so."

* * *

_CBI Headquarters, Sacramento, CA_

Caroline sat down in front of Bennet, smiling pleasantly. He looked up at Cho, deeply confused why there was a child sitting across from him.

"Isn't she too young to be interrogating me?" He asked, straightening his glasses.

"Who says I'm interrogating you?" Caroline said. "You and I are just talking, Mr. Bennet." Cho nodded.

"On the other hand, Mr. Ross has already been interrogated. And he's talking."

"…He is?" Buddy asked.

"Oh yes," Patrick said. "And he's already given you up. He said that killing Wesson was all your idea. That you snuck into the house, you beat Mr. and Mrs. Wesson to death."

"…That's not true!" Bennet exclaimed.

"Really?" Caroline asked. "Then what _did_ happen, Mr. Bennet?"

"It was all my…"

"…All his idea."

"Then what was your part in it, Buddy?" Patrick asked.

"I killed…"

"…He killed them. I was just the…"

"…Brains of the operation. He told me what to do. But I was only supposed to…"

"…Kill Walter. Vanessa wasn't supposed to be there but he…"

"…I panicked. She was right there and I knew I couldn't let her go. I was gonna kill…"

"…You if you came downstairs, but you didn't. At least we don't have…"

"…Her life on our hands."

"You honestly considered killing a little girl because you were afraid to get caught?" Patrick said, anger welling in his stomach but his voice stayed even.

"Yes…"

"…But I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if he did. You're just a kid, Caroline…"

"…I couldn't have done it. She's just a kid." Patrick nodded.

"Well, thank you, Mr. Ross. And I do believe you and Mr. Bennet will both be going to jail for a long time. And Caroline may be a child but…"

"…But I'm a kid that just got a Vice President to confess to murder." She stood and walked out of the room, smiling as Cho cuffed the man, reciting his rights. The door shut behind her, just as Patrick came out of the interrogation room next to her.

They grinned at each other.

"We are _so_ good." She said. He nodded.

"That we are." He said. She held up her hand.

"C'mon, smack it, you know you want to." She said. He laughed and high fived her. They walked into the main office, plopping down on the couch.

"So, what happens to me now?" She asked. "Am I getting bounced through the system again?"

"No," Patrick said. "I won't allow it."

"Then…what's going to happen to me?" Patrick leaned his head against the back of the couch, closing his eyes and smiling.

"You'll see."

"So?" Lisbon said, entering the office. "How'd it go?"

"They both confessed." Caroline said.

"How did you guys know that it was them and not a robbery?" Lisbon asked.

"If it were a thief they would have waited until one of them was alone or wait until they went to bed to rob them. Their target was to murder Mr. and Mrs. Wesson. A normal thief would have panicked and left the way he came." Patrick said.

"And, Buddy and Roy were the only ones who had motive." Caroline concluded. Lisbon sighed.

"Well, good job then." She said.

"You guys are gonna put us out of the job." Rigsby said, sitting down.

"No, people like us still need you." Patrick said.

"How?" Cho asked. Patrick grinned.

"You get to carry a gun. I don't. It's good to have people around you that carry guns."

"If you didn't tick people off so much you wouldn't have to worry about it." Cho said blatantly. Caroline and Patrick laughed.

"So, you're seriously not telling me what you're planning to do with me?" Caroline asked. Patrick grinned and shook his head.

"No, if I did it would ruin the surprise." Caroline folded her arms, pouting.

"I hate surprises." She mumbled. Patrick chuckled.

"I know."

--More soon! I promise--


	9. The Bloody End

9

**The Bloody End**

"Those are my parents." Caroline said, handing Patrick the picture.

"You look just like your mother. But you have your father's eyes." He said, smiling. She nodded.

"Yeah. I wish I could remember her. My dad used to tell me about how great she was. But…it's one of those 'you have to be there' things," She said. "I wonder a lot about how it would have been if she wouldn't have died when she had me. I wonder if she would have liked me. Or if I would have turned out different. Or if we would have hated each other like all the other teenagers I see." She finished quietly. Patrick shook his head.

"Anyone that had the privilege of giving birth to you would never hate you, Caroline. They would love you. And they would be so proud of you." He said. She shook her head.

"How do you know?" She asked.

"Because I've only known you for four days and I am both of those." He said. She blushed.

"Maybe you need better taste in friends." She said. He chuckled.

"Or I need to get over myself, considering you are me, according to my comrades." He said. She laughed.

"Jane," Lisbon said. "They're here." Patrick grinned and stood.

"C'mon, Caroline." He said. Caroline's brows creased and she followed him.

"What's going on, Patrick?" She asked.

"I want you to meet some friends of mine," He said. "I think you're going to like them."

"Why are you so ominous?" She asked angrily. He smiled.

"Because it annoys you ever so." He said, still grinning. She followed him silently out the doors, her eyes never leaving the back of his head.

"Caroline," He said once they reached the parking lot. "This is Mark and Kelly." The couple smiled at her.

"Hi." She said. She grabbed Patrick's arm and spun him around.

"Who are they Patrick?" She asked. Her face was angry, but her eyes were scared.

"Relax," He said calmly. "They've been friends of mine for many years now. Kelly can't have children, but she and Mark have always wanted a child. A daughter, to be more precise."

"So…so they..?"

"They want to adopt you, Caroline," He said. She bit her lip, glancing at them. He touched her cheek, turning her attention back to him. "They won't hurt you, Caroline. I wouldn't let you go with them if they would. I've been friends with them for almost twenty years. And I can tell you that Kelly doesn't have a mean bone in her body. In fact, I think she can be a little bit of a pushover. Mark is just as nice. He's never raised his voice to anything smaller than him, and he's a big guy. And if they do anything, anything to hurt you, or abuse you at all, you can call me."

"Patrick, I don't know…" She said quietly.

"No one's going to hurt you anymore, Caroline." He assured, smiling slightly.

"When am I going?" She asked. He shrugged.

"Now, if you'd like." He said. She sighed.

"If I don't go now I won't at all. I can't keep being afraid all the time." She whispered.

"I'll get your bag, you go talk to them." He said. She hesitated.

"Go on, it's okay." He prompted. She took a deep breath and walked toward them.

"Hi, I'm Caroline…" Patrick turned and walked into the office.

"So, she's really going?" Van Pelt asked. He nodded.

"Yep," He said. Van Pelt sighed. "You're actually going to miss her."

"I hate to admit it. But yeah, I am. She's a cute little thing."

"But she's too much like him," Rigsby said. "That's why she's gotta go. I can't handle two of them at once."

"You did for the majority of the week." Cho said.

"And that's all I can stand."

"I'll miss her," Cho said. "She was funny. She made fun of you a lot. I like her." Rigsby scowled at him.

"All of us will miss her, in some small way." Lisbon said.  
"Very small." Rigsby mumbled.

Patrick hoisted her bag over his shoulder.

"I'll miss her," He said. "Very much."

"You had your own Mini Me for four days, I'd miss her too." Lisbon said.

"She's also a great girl. She's going to do so much for this world. And I can't wait to see her do it." He walked out of the office, slowing as he walked out of the doors. She was laughing, and Kelly and Mark would too. She looked up, saw him and ran over.

"So, what's the verdict?" He asked.

"I like them," She said, grinning. "They're really nice. And smart. I think I'm gonna like them."

"Then why are you about to cry?" He asked gently. She hugged him.

"'Cause I'm really gonna miss you." She said, her face in his shirt. He hugged her back.

"I'll miss you too," He said. "But Mark and Kelly live right here in Sacramento, so you can see me whenever you like. And I don't care what time it is or when it is, if you need to talk to me you go ahead and call me."

She let him go, sniffing. He handed her her bag, wiping a tear off of her cheek. She looked over her shoulder at Mark and Kelly.

"I think I can be happy, now." She said.

"I hope so." He said.

"I'll take your bag, Caroline," Mark said, coming up behind her. She handed it to him. "You take all the time you need, okay?" She smiled and nodded.

She turned back to Patrick.

"Promise me something." She said.

"Anything."

"When you catch Red John, I know you want to kill him for revenge…But I think him getting the death penalty in a court of law would be better. Or incarceration for life. Being in a tiny box for the rest of his life, unable to speak to anyone ever again, left to think about all of the horrible things he's done. And you would be the one to put him there. I think that would be better than just killing him, Patrick." He looked at the ground.

"I'll do my best." He said. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight.

"Thank you, Patrick," She kissed his cheek. "For everything." She turned and walked toward Mark and Kelly's car. Kelly wrapped her arm around Caroline's shoulders.

"First thing's first, we are going to get you some new clothes. These things look like you've had them since you were twelve." She said. Caroline laughed.

"Well, I have." She said. She turned, smiled one last time at Patrick and got in the car. Patrick smiled and waved.

As the car drove away, he felt something in his hand. He looked down, wondering when Caroline put it there. He opened his hand and gasped, tears filling his eyes.

His wife's wedding ring glinted up at him.

**THE**

**END**

--Thank you all who followed this! This was my first Mentalist story and you guys made me feel so welcome in this community, and i thank you all God bless you and I hope to write more adventures with Patrick Jane in the near future!--


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